


Taking Aim

by Telaryn



Series: The Hero and The Bad Boy [3]
Category: Leverage, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Banter, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Developing Relationship, Kissing, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-05
Packaged: 2017-11-23 18:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/625175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telaryn/pseuds/Telaryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An archery lesson turns into something more between Clint and Quinn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking Aim

“Try it again,” Clint called, leaning on his practice bow. “Smooth and controlled.”

His student gave a shaky bark of a laugh as he eased off what had been an obviously unsteady draw. “Fuck you and your smooth and controlled, Barton.” Pale eyes met his, and Clint felt something tighten pleasurably in his gut. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

He shrugged, smirking. “Gotta say, under the circumstances – it doesn’t suck.” Quinn glared at him for another long moment, but Clint sensed immediately that any frustration the other man was feeling was largely rooted in something other than his archery lesson. _This is so fucked up,_ he thought, barely resisting the urge to close with the larger man and kiss him. “Back to work, grasshopper,” he called, taking refuge in teasing banter again.

A dark, intense light flashed in Quinn’s eyes, and for a moment Clint wondered if the lesson really was over. Then the other man turned and repositioned himself facing the target. “Smooth and controlled, hmm?” he asked. Exhaling softly, he picked up an arrow and fit it to the string. Clint tensed, starting to say something, but took himself in hand just in time. There was no harm in Quinn trying a shot if he felt up to it; Clint had been working him on his draw likely longer than necessary.

Quinn’s head came up, sighting on his goal. A moment later he straightened – pulling up and back in exactly the sort of smooth, controlled movement Clint had been urging him towards. To his embarrassment, Clint found his own attention lingering on the way the muscles in Quinn’s arms were bunched in anticipation of the shot.

A moment later, the string was released and the arrow was speeding across the room towards the target. “Not bad,” Clint said. Quinn had already lowered the bow, so he walked across to the target to get a better look at how the arrow had been seated.

“Didn’t get a bullseye.”

Clint glanced over his shoulder. “You hit the target,” he countered. “Way your draw’s looked, I wouldn’t have bet safe money on that.” The arrow hadn’t hit perfectly straight, but it was buried deep enough that Clint could tell there’d been a lot of well-focused power behind the shot.

“How’s it look, sensei?” Clint shivered, realizing that Quinn had moved to the edge of his personal space.

“Not bad.” He schooled his expression before turning to face the other man. “For a beginner.”

Quinn was smirking now, but the dark light was back in his eyes as he stepped forward. “You know, you’ve been needling me all morning, Barton.”

Clint had to swallow against a suddenly dry throat before he could speak. “Call ‘em like I see ‘em,” he said – cursing inwardly at the slight tremor that had found its way into his voice. “It’s kind of nice finding something I’m better than you at.”

“You’re lucky I like you, you know that right?” Quinn took another step in on him, and it was all Clint could do to stand his ground. “Cause you are a cheeky little bastard sometimes.” He gripped Clint’s shoulder, pulling him in closer. Barton allowed himself to be maneuvered, his heart hammering painfully against his chest.

“Most people don’t call me little,” he said softly, then Quinn was kissing him. It was open-mouthed and hungry, and Clint couldn’t stop the low, eager sounds in his throat as he threaded his fingers into Quinn’s fall of hair and kissed him back.

After a few pleasant, slightly fumbling moments, Quinn’s hand dropped to Clint’s belt. “We’ve been dancing around this for a while,” he murmured, pulling back until their eyes met. His skin was flushed, his pupils blown so wide with lust that his eyes looked black – and in that moment Clint couldn’t remember ever wanting anyone more. “How ‘bout it?”

Half a dozen smart-ass comments flashed through his mind, but Clint made his decision in a heartbeat. “All right,” he said, leaning in and kissing Quinn again.


End file.
